Paul Schrader's reunion with Richard Gere in "Oh, Canada" presents a stark contrast to their iconic collaboration in "American Gigolo." Where the latter showcased Gere at his most virile and captivating, this latest effort deliberately dismantles that image, replacing the Armani-clad Julian with a decrepit, cancer-ridden documentary filmmaker determined to confess his lifetime of betrayals before death claims him.

The film carries an almost handcrafted quality, reminiscent of Godard's 1960s work – particularly "Pierrot le Fou" with its road elements. Schrader seems to have taken scissors to conventional narrative, creating a fever dream of disjointed memories where Gere and Jacob Elordi interchangeably portray Leonard Fife at different ages, sometimes within the same scene. This jarring technique effectively reinforces Leonard's deeply unlikeable nature, though the point of these switches remains somewhat ambiguous.

Gere delivers a compelling performance that swings between the coolness of his younger days (with Elordi matching this energy admirably) and the frail, aggressive bitterness of his dying moments. Neither version offers much to sympathise with – a deliberate choice that keeps viewers at arm's length. American Gigolo fans will find the contrast particularly fascinating, though undoubtedly difficult to witness.

While the themes of aging, confession and mortality provide intellectual interest, the relentlessly pessimistic tone makes for heavy viewing. Unlike Schrader's previous underrated masterwork "The Master Gardener," redemption feels notably absent here. Leonard simply wants his wife Emma (Uma Thurman) to know he's an asshole – without offering meaningful atonement.

The hastily cut together scenes, implied connections, and dreamlike cinematography create an intriguing if occasionally frustrating experience. At times it feels like watching someone else's nightmare – coherent in its emotional truth if not its logical progression.

"Oh, Canada" is unmistakably a Schrader film, though perhaps one of his less accessible works. Devotees of his filmography will find plenty to analyse in this meditation of his usual themes, but casual cinemagoers seeking narrative satisfaction will likely leave disappointed. It's an uncompromising, occasionally clunky art film that doesn't particularly care whether you enjoy it or not – much like its protagonist.